1. I can’t help but eat. The beginning and end of the composition. I can’t help but change. Times have changed.

As time goes by, things and people have changed, but I still can't help but miss the past.

——Inscription In this world, there are always some people who appear in your world inadvertently and stay in your heart without warning. Even if they are separated or far away, they still make you miss them.

Those people have the same name - friends.

I still remember that morning, the weather was extremely cold, the air was filled with a sad smell, and even the wind was whispering farewell to me.

I'm going to transfer to another school, leaving those close friends who have been with me day and night, and going to another school to start my own life.

So, on that morning, I left them.

Although we have left, and although we can no longer be together day and night, we have not lost contact with them.

After we left, we kept in touch through letters.

Our friendship is recorded on beautiful stationery.

In the letter, we told about the fun and joy of school; in the letter, we told about our studies and worries; in the letter, we confided in our thoughts about each other; At that time, we were especially looking forward to the arrival of the week, because on Sunday,

We can get together to relieve the pain of missing each other.

We went crazy together, made trouble together, and chased tirelessly. Although the time was short, it was full of happiness.

Perhaps, from that moment on, we decided that our friendship would last forever, even if time and distance could not defeat it.

I am also thinking in my heart that we will definitely fulfill our promise of lasting forever, because "May we live long and live thousands of miles" is our motto for friendship.

2. How to write the ending of an essay about cooking for the first time. The ending of an essay about cooking for the first time: 1. Although the first experience is thrilling and scary, it is also a good way to hone a strong will.

This incident is something I will never forget, because it cultivated my ability to be independent and sharpened my will.

Be brave enough to try a meaningful first time, it will make your life more colorful!

2. Although the first experience is thrilling and scary, it is also a good way to hone a strong will.

This incident is something I will never forget, because it cultivated my ability to be independent and sharpened my will.

Be brave enough to try a meaningful first time, it will make your life more colorful!

3. Although the first experience is thrilling and scary, it is also a good way to hone a strong will.

This incident is something I will never forget, because it cultivated my ability to be independent and sharpened my will.

Be brave enough to try a meaningful first time, it will make your life more colorful!

3. How to write the ending of the essay "Eating Leftovers" My grandma is eighty-five years old, but she is not deaf, has a straight waist, has a loud voice, and moves quickly.

He is 1.70 meters tall, and even now, when he walks on the street, many people still pay attention to him.

A month ago, grandma came to my house. To be precise, we begged her to our home.

She didn't want to come. She said, "I won't stay overnight when I'm seventy, and I won't stay for meals when I'm eighty." Grandma can't stay idle because she doesn't want to be idle.

Busy all day long doing housework outside, it is said that it stretches the muscles and bones, and is meticulous, like taking care of underage children.

I couldn't bear it, but she was determined to do it and said she would leave if she didn't.

That day, I was holding leftover rice and was about to flush it into the toilet. I happened to be bumped into by my grandma. She shouted sternly: "What are you doing? The rice is not bad. Won't you throw it away in vain?" I argued, "It's leftover porridge, it's too bad."

"No matter what, it's still food. You can't just throw away food. You can't throw anything away. It's a low standard in the 1960s. The bark has been stripped off, so you don't know."

. . . In 1978 or 1979, the ** family in our village had to go hungry for half a year.” I was helpless, but I was thinking in my heart: The old man is just old-fashioned and likes to make a fuss.

At dinner that day, grandma made an exception and sat down early. She had some leftover rice on her fingers and asked me to pour some boiling water to scald it. She wanted to eat it.

Of course I wouldn't let it.

She actually pressed down on her rice bowl and clasped it tightly with her wrists, and her voice rose a bit: "I like to eat porridge, it's good for digestion." I couldn't resist her in the end, I just felt that from then on, grandma would be watching.

Got the leftovers at home.

After each meal, I must personally check what is left and how much is left, while chattering endlessly: "There is still this rice left, so there is no need to cook it for the next meal. I can't eat so many dishes, and it is really superfluous to fry them in threes and twos." The next meal

As it got closer, he seemed to be muttering to himself: "There is still a big bowl of rice, two steamed buns, and those tofu in the refrigerator. It's enough even if I don't make them." He does this every day without getting tired of it.

When she drinks soy milk every morning, she must drink it last and drink it all.

For this reason, she often cannot eat because she is too full, and refuses to listen to you no matter how much you advise.

I have heard this kind of words too many times, but I don’t say anything, but in my heart I feel that my grandma is a bit troublesome.

That time, grandma was mumbling again: "There is a bowl of leftover noodles in the refrigerator." I finally couldn't help it and said word by word: "Morning-morning-I-have-eaten-

"Eat it?" Grandma was speechless for a moment and turned around slowly... Grandma had a rest very early that night.

I slowly came to her bedside and said, "Nai, there is no leftover food from this meal.